Coming Home A Stranger
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Maureen wakes up in a world where no one seems to now who she is. chapters to come, i swear. idea hit me when i was walking by a river, don't ask why...stay tuned!
1. How the Hell

"If that's the way you feel about it, you can just…just…get lost!"

"Fine! I will! And I'll sit down and wait for you to come crawling back to me!" Maureen turned and stalked away from Joanne, fuming. That anal retentive, obsessive compulsive, controlling, tyrannical…she couldn't even think of any more words that described how horrible Joanne was being. Who was she to complain about Maureen "flirting" with the waitress? She wasn't Maureen; she didn't know what she was thinking or anything. She wasn't the boss of her.

Maureen flopped onto a bar stool, still enraged. As she surveyed the rest of her friends, she only felt worse. Why did they get to feel so happy when she was having a terrible fight with her girlfriend? Why did Angel and Collins get to make out on the table when Joanne wouldn't even consider her lips right now? Why did Mimi and Roger get to look at each other with those big, loving eyes when Joanne wasn't even looking at he right now? Why was Mark so chipper, flitting here and there like some damn hummingbird?

Fuck them all! She didn't need them, she didn't need anybody. They had it better than her, so she had had it with them. In fact, she wished she'd never met those…those creeps!

Maureen's black mood was reaching its climax at that moment, and she would probably have forgotten everything she had just thought in a few minutes if a very heavy, very _hard_ something hadn't smashed into her head at the exact moment she mentally declared that she wished she had never known her friends. As the pain snuffed her thoughts out and she plunged into a swirling pit of nothingness, that last idea spiraled around her: _I wish I had never known them…wish I had never known them…never known them…never known…never…_

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Maureen sat up and rubbed her head. _Damn, that hurt_. She had no idea what had hit her, but whatever it was, it hadn't been gentle. She…also had no idea why she was in Central Park now, instead of the bar at the Life. As Maureen looked around, she realized that she was lying on a bench in the park, and she could feel the cool wind blowing over the bare skin on her arms. Sitting up, Maureen shivered and rubbed her arms. The trees were barren and the grass was brown and coarse, with hard clumps of snow dotting the terrain. Maureen hated it when the park seemed so dead; it was scary to her, like looking at a corpse. Ever since April had died, Maureen had hated lifeless things.

As Maureen looked more closely at her surroundings, she realized that April must be more in her thoughts (however screwed up they were) than she realized. One of the two females in a group of four a few yards away looked vaguely like the redhead…

Maureen's eyes widened and she sat up. That redhead didn't look vaguely like April; she looked exactly like April. The same red hair, stiff with spray, the same turned up nose and mouthful of large, rectangular teeth, the same cheery, bouncy aura…it couldn't have been more like April if it was a horror movie clone. And now as Maureen looked at the other three people, two men and a woman, she began to recognize them. The girl had long, tangled brown hair and deep brown eyes, a Latina with a beautiful face. The man who she was clinging to was average height with slicked back, short blonde hair and square glasses. He had a square chin and disgustingly tasteful and fancy clothes. The other man had short, dyed blonde hair, a spiky muzzle of a beard, slightly grungier clothes, and one arm wrapped tight around the April look-alike. If Maureen didn't know better, she could swear that she was looking at messed-up versions of Mark, Roger, and Mimi.

Maureen got up and slowly approached the group, stepping tentatively. _What_ was Mark wearing? Why was Mimi hanging off his arm?_ And how the hell was April still alive?_

"Mark? Roger? What the fuck is going on here? Mimi, what're you doing with Mark? April…what the fuck?" They turned and stared at her, eyes cold. Only April looked slightly friendly.

"Excuse me, _miss_," said Mark condescendingly. "Although I think you have us confused with some other people, I would like to know how you know our names. I certainly don't know you."

"What? Mark, Pookie, stop playing around and listen. Why the hell is April—"

"_Pookie?_ Did you just call me _Pookie_?" Mark asked, sounding angry. Roger, Mimi, and April all stifled giggles. Maureen glared at them.

"Yeah, I know you hate it, but seriously, Mark, get over it already. You guys, why is April here? I mean, coming back from the dead is not something to joke about, so quit it and tell my why the hell—"

"Back from the dead? Now you're just getting weird, stalker-lady," said Mimi, looking down at Maureen, raising her nose in the air in a way that Maureen _knew_ Mimi would never do. She started to feel slightly scared. Why were they doing this to her? _How was April still alive?_

"Guys, snap out of it. It's Mo, Maureen, your annoying, hyperactive anarchist girl. Your ex-girlfriend, Mark? C'mon, people, enough with the joke already!"

"All right, if you don't leave now I'm calling the police," Mark threatened, taking a step forward. Mimi pulled him back and stood on tiptoe, gently kissing his ear.

"Mark, baby, don't do that. You'll just be up late with the cops, and you know I hate that…" Mark smirked and leaned down to kiss Mimi. Roger, who had been nuzzling April, tried to make her kiss him, but she wouldn't look away from Maureen. She looked at Maureen like a grownup watching a little kid pretend that she's a princess or a space-woman.

"Listen, I think you're a little confused. Just sit down and get some coffee somewhere. Here." April reached into her pocket and fished out a couple dollars, pressing them into the stunned Maureen's palm. "Buy yourself something hot to eat and drink with that, 'kay?"

"But…but…" Maureen could only stammer in shock as the group headed away, kissing and murmuring with the respective couples. Her mind felt like a bomb had exploded and wiped out everything she knew for sure. A thought crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. _No, that's crazy even for me…_

"hey, wait! What about Collins? Where is he? He'll listen to me!" Maureen cried, running up to them. They whipped around, faces shocked and angry.

"What the hell do you know about Collins, you stalking bitch?" demanded Roger, advancing menacingly on her. Maureen narrowed her eyes at him.

"He's one of my best friends, you idiot. Now where is he? Tell me!" Mimi glared at her, and Mark looked really angry now. Only April looked sad. She ignored the others and spoke softly to Maureen.

"Um…Collins died months ago."


	2. 3D Imax of my Mind

"Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. That's a lie. That's a stupid, shit-filled lie and you know it. Where is he? _Where the hell is he?_" Maureen knew she sounded crazy, but she felt like screaming. Collins? Dead? Not true, not true in a million years.

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but if you knew Collins at all, you would know that he died a while ago. It…it was in the paper, and—"

"How did he die? How the hell!" Roger was trying to drag April away now, but she was standing firm, looking at Maureen with a mixture of sadness and curiosity.

"He…he killed himself. Because he had HIV. I'm sorry if this is the way you find out." What? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Suicide? No, not Collins, that was April, that was April! Not Collins, not Collins, oh please god, not Collins! Maureen suddenly realized that she was hyperventilating and the group of four was moving down the street. She didn't follow them. She didn't want to talk to those cold versions of her friends. But oh my god, what this what she thought it was? Maureen turned and strode off down the path, heading for the place she hoped might help her understand something, anything, about this hell.

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The loft loomed high over Maureen as she rushed towards it, grimacing at how _clean_ it looked. The whole thing had been washed and buffed, most likely. It was disgusting.

The inside was even worse. Shiny metal steps, no graffiti, and—she wrinkled her nose—pine-scented. She took some pleasure in making loud clanging noises as she ascended the stairs, but even being loud wasn't enough now. She needed to know what was going on, and now.

The door, also disgustingly clean, loomed in front of her. Luckily, her key to the loft seemed to have traveled with her into this nightmare, and she unlocked the door, grimacing at the smooth, easy turn of the key. The door slid back to reveal the loft. Maureen gasped and leaned against the doorframe.

The loft had been transformed into some uptown, hoity-toity place. Its floors were wall-to-wall carpeting, and the walls themselves were a gentle beige color. The furniture was tasteful and new-looking, with the unnatural sheen of unused items. The lights were bright and cold, streaming from strange new fixtures on the walls and the ceiling. Haunting classical music floated throughout the loft. And across from Maureen, sitting at a desk, bent over his work with intense concentration, was Benny, wearing the same strange, sensible clothes as Mark. Maureen felt sick. This wasn't the loft. This was a bohemian's Twilight Zone.

"Mark, did you get my Claritin?" Benny said, not looking up from his writings (he was scribbling wildly with a pen on some thick, creamy paper). Maureen took tentative steps forward, her heart thudding. When there was no reply, Benny looked up. His expression was surprised, but not alarmed. Benny never got _really_ worked up unless the situation was code red.

"Who're you? If you're one of Mimi's friends from before, she's not giving handouts, so you're out of luck there. And if you're a friend of April's, she's not here and Mark hates it when you people drop by, so I'd leave if I were you."

"Benny…can you honestly tell me you've never seen before in your life? That you don't know me or recognize me whatsoever?" Maureen still felt like this was one colossal joke. But the horror of the new loft was driving the reality of the problem home nicely.

"Um…yes, I'm sorry, but yes. Why do you ask?" Same old unruffled Benny, she thought with a rueful mental smile. At least that hadn't changed. But then a stab of fear flashed through her, and she trembling sank into one of the shiny beige chairs. The weird new Mark and Mimi and Roger hadn't listened, but maybe Benny would.

"Benny, I don't know if I'm losing my mind or what, but somehow none of you know who I am."

"Should we?"

"As far as I know, we've all known each since at least high school. And Benny…April said Collins was dead." Benny's face stiffened, but the expression hardly changed.

"He is. Now I'm starting to get a little freaked out, so if you have a reason to be here, show it to me now and I won't call the cops." Maureen was panicked. He wouldn't, would he? But as Benny's eyes darted towards the phone on his left, Maureen knew she better talk, and talk fast.

"Ok, uh, Benny, before I tell you why I'm here, it would help if you could just explain who all of you are, you know, what you're doing and everything, and what you guys did to end up like this. Get it?"

"Why should I—"

"Please." Maureen's desperation must have shown through, because Benny heaved a sighed and began talking.

"Mark, Roger, and Collins met in high school. Roger and Collins moved here when they graduated, but Mark went to Brown, where we were roommates." _But I stopped him from going to Brown_, Maureen realized. _He stayed because of me, because I begged him to and because I told him we should move to NYC with Roger and Collins_. Maureen felt a churning in her stomach that had nothing to do with the seaweed salad she had eaten earlier at the Life.

"We all lived here for a while, after Mark and I graduated, before Roger met April. They were really happy, and because Mark got so depressed at seeing them he went to the Catscratch and brought Mimi home. Then they all got in with the smack, and that hasn't changed. Only Mark buys the needles, so they won't risk anything." Maureen's head was spinning. She grabbed onto one fact and focused on it, trying to escape everything she was hearing.

"How can Mark buy the needles? He's broke."

"Uh, no. Mark got into the law business after college. He's a state prosecutor now. Money started coming from that, and he bought the building. Now he can do pretty much whatever he fucking wants. Even cheat on Mimi with his weird new partner from a couple months ago, Joanne something…" Benny furrowed his brow as he searched his brain for a last name, not noticing the look of absolute shock on Maureen's face.

_Pookie? Mark was cheating on Mimi with…oh my god, this is even more fucked up than I realized_. Maureen knew that she might start hyperventilating from fear if she didn't keep talking.

"How did Collins die?" Benny looked down and squeezed his pen harder in his fist.

"He got HIV from some guy, we don't know who. No one really knew what to say to him or how to help, and I guess it just got to be too much. I…he was a great man." Maureen felt her throat close up. Oh god…

"Benny, what about you? How can you be so calm about this? I mean…" She trailed off, waiting for his answer. He shrugged.

"It's easier than trying to change things. Mark's long past help, and he sort of controls the rest of us. I mean, without him we wouldn't have the loft or food or heat or anything. I mean, I might…but they wouldn't. They depend on him. I guess he changed in college, and that's why I don't leave him He was such an easy-going guy at first, but then the competitive part of college and school wore him down. He's just like he is now. Nothing I can do. And as for what I do…I write. Plays, novels, a couple editorials. I'm not surprised you don't know about them; they haven't gone beneath 42nd Street." Maureen gritted her teeth. Same old unfeeling Benny, she thought again. But her insides were churning still, and she felt like throwing up. Shakily, she got to her feet.

"Um, thanks, I guess. I gotta go." And before Benny could speak, she raced out of the apartment.


	3. Wake Me Up

Maureen charged down the stairs, her head pounding. _Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…_As she walked onto the street, a group of kids passed. One of them was wearing a weird little zebra-print hat. It wasn't much, but it was enough to remind her who she hadn't checked out yet. Someone who might be able to help. Maureen headed down the sidewalk, trying to figure out what was going on.

_If Mark didn't know me in high school, then we didn't go out and I wasn't there to convince him to come to New York…and because he wasn't going out with me, he went to the Catscratch and found Mimi. And then I wasn't there to keep him off smack, like that one time I caught him with one of Roger's needles…Collins got HIV and I wasn't there to help him through it, because I spent almost three weeks standing next to him, helping him…so he committed suicide. (Oh god…) Maybe since Pookie hasn't met me, she's not a lesbian, or maybe she just needs someone, I don't know…but how the hell is April alive? Maybe because…Mark is buying the needles, so she didn't get AIDS from a dirty one! Man, this is insane…_ Maureen shivered and moved faster, practically running down the cold pavement.

When she reached Angel's house, Maureen saw that the windows were dark. _Maybe she's not home_. But then something moved inside, and Maureen hurried up the steps.

"Angel? Baby, you there?" Maureen knocked tentatively on the door. There was no sound from within for about ten seconds. Then, the door slowly creaked open an inch.

"What is it?" The voice that rasped from behind the door was low and strange, like the croak of a wild animal. Maureen felt a crackle of fear go down her spine.

"Angel...is that you?" She squinted into the gloom of the unlit apartment, but she couldn't make anything out. Angel-or whoever was behind that door-stepped back a little. the next thing Maureen knew, the door had opened all the way.

Maureen ran down the steps of the building, gasping like she was being persued by a monster. That...that _thing_ wasn't Angel. Oh god, it couldn't be...pale and lifeless and zombielike, the horrible eyes of the creature inside were burned into her mind as she headed towards the park again. The face was like a starved, beaten version of Angel, and the happiness that so radiated from her friend was gone. Maureen felt like throwing up. How had never knowing her affected Angel like that? Collins was dead because he never knew Maureen, and that meant he hadn't met Angel. And Mimi probably wasn't friends with Angel anymore, being her new self and all. So did that mean that this terrible new Angel was the result of having no one? Of having no love, no affection, no connections to the world? Maureen shook her head to clear it, but all she did was jumble the facts around in her mind.

Faster and faster she walked, bumping into buildings and people. She wanted to get to the park, where things hadn't changed too much yet...fuck, this was horrible, this was a nightmare. Maureen felt a sob coming up in her throat, but she forced it down. Don't cry, don't cry...she was just about to let loose with it when she glimpsed four familair figures down the block. As she neared them, she realized that Mark and Mimi were glued together like Roger and Mimi used to be, and Roger and April were smoking. What could she say to them to get them to listen to her?

"You guys!" Maureen yelled. Roger and April tunred to look at her, but Mark and Mimi just ignored her shout. Maureen stumbled up to them, the electricity of fear buzzing painfully now.

"We have to talk, I--"

"Hey, you're that weird stalker we met before! Leave us fucking alone, why don't you!" Roger, whose dilated pupils spoke of a severe high, stepped drunkenly forward and swung his fist at Maureen's head. The last thing Maureen saw before she was knocked to the ground and the world went black was April, crying out and reaching to hold Roger back.

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"Honey? Honeybear, are you okay?" Maureen heard something like a faraway call, as though someone was holding a telephone a foot from her ear and another someone was yelling from inside it. The voice got closer and closer in the blackness that she floated in, until finally Maureen blinked and saw the source of the voice, Joanne, leaning worriedly over her.

"Maureen? Oh, thank god, she's waking up! Baby, are you feeling ok?" Maureen blinked again and other faces swam into view; Roger, Mark, Mimi, Angel, and...

"COLLINS!" Maureen launched herself from the table she had been lying on. Tackling the tall black man and ignoring the sudden throbbing in her head, she knocked him over, bringing them both crashing to the floor. She heard his cry of surprise and pain as they hit the ground, but all Maureen did was hug him tighter and tighter, because he was_ real_, he was _alive_, not dead or gone or whatever the others had said, he was here...

"Whoa, Maureen, calm down," said Roger's voice, and she felt two pairs of hands pulling her up. Although she tried to keep ahold of Collins, the hands pried her off and half-lifted, half-dragged her up onto the same table. She sat there, grinning maniacally at all her friends as they surrounded her, worrying about her sanity. But it felt so good to see Roger with his hands on Mimi's shoulders, Mark with his adorable geeky-boy haircut and clothes, Angel looking healthy and normal, Collins there and not gone, and Joanne, more sexy and wonderful than she had ever seemed before, looking concernedly at Maureen.

"Baby, what's with you? First you get hit by a bottle and stay unconcious for more than five minutes, then you suddenly wake up and attack Collins. Should we be worried?" Maureen felt like laughing, even though they were all wondering if she had lost her mind.

"I had this dream, see, and you were in it, and you and you and you..." she pointed at them, tingling with soemthing between relief and head pain.

"What is this, the Wizard of Oz?" asked Roger. Mimi poked him.

"Feels more like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to me," Collins groaned, rubbing his sore hip. Angel threaded her arm through his and kissed his cheek.

"Shake it off honey, you've gotten worse from Mo before."

"True dat," said Mark.

"Hey, what about me?" said Maureen indignantly. They looked back at her with the familiar, 'Maureen-is-weirding-out-again' looks on their faces. She went on anyway.

"See, it was like none of you guys knew me, and everything got screwed up. Mark, you were some kind of...Benny, i guess, with massively gelled hair and a blazer." Mark wrinkled his nose, and the others looked sympathatically at him. "_And_ you were going out with Mimi." Mimi shrieked and shrunk back against Roger, who folded his arms over her protectively. Mark rolled his eyes.

"Roger, you were all weird and spaced out and everything. It was creepy." Maureen neglected to mention April; she didn't want to upset anyone.

"What about me?" asked Angel. Maureen paused for a moment, then said, "You...had moved. Dunno where." Angel frowned, and Collins put his arm around her. Maureen didn't want to say how Angel had been either; it still scared her. The others questioned her about the rest fo the dream, and she told them most of it, leaving out Collins's death and Mark cheating on Mimi with Joanne. They viewed it as her Alice in Wonderland experience. It was just another chapter in Maureen's loooong book of freakish behavior.

As Maureen kissed Joanne, as Mimi held a napkin wrapped in ice to the large bump on her skull, as she laughed at Mark's attempts to get Mimi to stop screaming everytime he looked at her, she realized that they were her family. They loved her and she loved them, and they cared for her. There were bad things about them, and there were good things, but the best part was that they were there, and that they understood her (sometimes). Maureen knew that she would always remember what they had been like when they had never known her, and she knew that those strange, cold people would give her the creeps late at night. But for now, they did know her, and she baske din their love and energy as the night wore on and Alice left her Wonderland behind.


End file.
